Evolution
by 420candyapple
Summary: UPDATE! NOT FINISHED! Going to start writing more about our favorite couple ;) Claire, Owen, and Maisie are moving from the cabin site to Claire's apartment after the Lockwood estate perished. Claire's POV. Shades of drama from Jurassic World in the early chapters, but this takes place after Fallen Kingdom. Claire and Owen pairing, Clawen all the way! Rated M for future sex
1. The Three Of Us

We haven't talked much about "us" since we've been back. The three of us are moving back and forth between my apartment and Owen's camper van, which is always parked at the cabin site, ironically only about 40 minutes away from my place. I didn't know he bought a plot of land and was building. But… we hadn't talked in almost 5 months. Last I knew he was taking the camper on some unplanned road trip that was supposed to last God only knows how long. We all keep calling what he's building the cabin, even though it's actually turned into a bigger project for Owen because he decided to add another bedroom and a small bathroom for Maisie. So it's pretty much going to be a two bedroom house, but we still call it the cabin because that's what Owen refers to it as. My apartment has huge rooms, with a full and a half bath, but it only has one bedroom. We were able to fit a twin mattress in the bedroom for Maisie when we sleep there. But she usually ends up on my queen bed, gently moving my arms, climbing in quickly and cuddling up to me. Her heart is always pounding so fast that I can feel it and her face is wet with tears and sweat. She's had horrible nightmares since what happened. She sticks close by Owen when it's daytime, though. She looks at him with these big admiring eyes and follows him around like a shadow. And he can get her to laugh, so when he's around, she's a lot more at ease.

I feel like we're in survival mode.

I have to have both of them in my sightline always or else severe panic engulfs me. Owen has had 2 quiet breakdowns that I know about, all of which he just held me against him and cried, quietly but heavily, always when Maisie was sleeping. And Maisie can't stay in her bed for the whole night.

Her laugh is the only thing that makes me feel somewhat sane again.


	2. Somewhat Sane

I knew Owen was still mad at me. I could tell from the moment he "ignored" me when I called his name when he was up on the ladder, pounding nails into the frame of a house I had no idea he was building. There's no way he hadn't turned around when he heard the car coming up the drive. He knew someone was coming, even if he didn't expect it to be ME. Since coming to the cabin site often now, I know for a fact you can hear someone driving through the trees, up the drive, to the cabin, even when they're still far back. He was just waiting. He knew it was me and he was just waiting for me to be the first to speak. And since I had the favor to ask, he had to win that round. We had dated for 2 and a-half years before the fight that ended it all. It wasn't even the worst fight we had ever had; hell, we argued on our first actual date, but it was the fight that ended the really good thing we found that we had between us.

About 3 years ago, after the park fell to ruin, there was really no reason he had to stay with me like he did. We were a team that day and I know he was the one who kissed me, but I also knew it was just in the heat of the moment. He had just almost died. I hadn't thought Owen thought twice about me, except that he wanted to help me find my nephews. And he was trying not to die alongside me doing it. I really didn't think he was attracted to me at all anymore. I thought he was a smartass who liked to tease, and that his teasing wasn't always just in fun. We had tried a date because the attraction between us was definitely strong and undeniable-and it was a disaster. That day, I wondered what was happening the moment he grabbed me after I helped him up, but truthfully, I thought he was protecting me against something. At that point, I had blind trust in him. He was going to make it all okay and we'd get Zach and Gray back soon. All I wanted was to get them back in my sight. When he kissed me, I was shocked and somewhat insulted. I could read the surprise in his eyes that I had shot and killed the dinosaur that was SO close to killing him. All I could think of was of course I can fire a gun! Just because I'm a girl in heels and a skirt doesn't mean I shouldn't know how to do that! He shouldn't have been THAT surprised. And then I was instantly self-conscious. I hadn't brushed my teeth since the morning, had dinosaur shit smeared all over myself in a disgusting effort of protection, my goddamn FAVORITE white suit was now a pile of rags that definitely smelled worse that my breath. However, I thought the second time we kissed was much better that that first messy and chaotic one. The next time and the time after that were even better. Every kiss was better than the last and I think he noticed too because he chose to stay. With me. And it was not a good time for either of us, but me, especially. The severe anxiety I felt over losing everyone was crippling. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think of anything but pure red terror. It seemed like the edges of my world, the edges of my field of vision, were in this constant state of agitated red. My mind was in a constant state of agitation too, never stopping, just replaying and replaying horrifying events with the Indominous Rex that I couldn't control over and over again. The worst night was when he picked me up off the bathroom floor where I lay, curled in a ball, tears and snot running down my face as I sobbed. I hadn't showered in going on 3 days because I could not get out of bed, except to go pee. I had finally gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom around 2 am, but I lost control of my anxiety while washing my hands. I fell to the floor sobbing and he must have heard me or something woke him, because he was there beside me, right when I truthfully thought I was going to die because I was sure my heart was going to explode. He was kneeling next to me, his soothing words in my ear, his hands circling me around my ribs, under my arms, and before I knew it I was in his lap, and he was holding me and crying with me. He told me he wished he could take away it all from me. That he would if he could. And that he was right there. He held me while he scooted over and up and turned the water on for the shower. We let it run while he just held me and the room filled up with steam. My sobs finally subsided and he undressed me and himself and got us both in the shower. It was still hot and he took a wet washcloth and wiped my tears away with it. And then I started crying again because of how nice he was being to me. He pulled me to him and let the water rush over the crown of my head, while he tried to calm my tears again. He let me stand under the hot water while he lathered soap into the washcloth and then proceeded to wash me from my shoulders to the bottoms of my feet. Then he shampooed my hair and I never realized how gentle a man could be with such a womanly task and I realized I was starting to come back from the edge. I took a deep, wavering breath in and let it out slowly and he noticed, stopped rinsing my hair and caught my eye. He smiled at me.

"Keep breathing like that," he said. "Deep breaths."

I noticed he was shivering, and I realized I had been under the only stream of hot water for almost the entire time we had been in the shower. I reached back and grabbed his hand from where he was rinsing my hair and laced my fingers with his. I pulled him around so that he was facing me and grabbed his forearms. I stepped back, allowing him to step forward and stand naked fully under the water. I felt the goosebumps rise on his skin from going from the chill to the sudden heat of the shower water. And then I kissed him, long and hard, pressing my hands to either side of his face, holding him to me, trying to breathe into him how thankful I was that I had him.

He would tell me later that that moment was when he realized he was truly in love with me. He would tell me later that the first time he kissed me was because he thought he was going to die and he had fallen in love with me in the instant I fired the gun. He would tell me that that moment was one of the most intense moments of his entire life, not only because of the dinosaur snapping in his face, but because he realized that I was standing on a table directly in plain view and he couldn't shoot anything that might come at me to protect me. And that that kiss changed his entire life. He would tell me that he would never leave me. He would tell me how strong I was and how good of a person I was for him.

But then… he would even later tell me that he left because I didn't want to live in his van with him "like a bum." But that's not why he left, not really. It was what happened before that that made it so easy for him to leave. Things weren't perfect between us and we still butted heads on a lot of things. But we always managed to come out of things laughing. And we both truly loved each other, I thought. The sex was amazing, the way he was with my family was great and his ability to center and calm me was incredible. This time, we were fighting at my apartment over something so trivial; I can't even think what it was now. Something that should have held no substance but I went and ruined everything. I told him how much I actually hated our first kiss as the park fell around us. We had been drinking, but I swear to God, I could see his eyes shift and change. In that moment, the feeling of winning the fight was tarnished. Because, I knew in an instant, that I had won it. He stopped arguing with me and silently finished the rest of his beer and went to bed. I finished my glass of wine and slowly hand washed the glass. Something I usually didn't do at the level of drunkenness I was at, but I think I was trying to avoid going to my bedroom where he was. So I went to the couch and turned on the TV and finally passed out. After not talking at all the next day and night, he told me he planned to take the camper van and travel. He had actually already started packing. I was surprised and confused. He said I could come and ride with him if I wanted, but his attempt was halfhearted. And he actually used those words. "Ride" with him. Because he refused to let me drive the damn camper van EVERY TIME we took it to visit my sister and the boys or my parents. And also, by that time, I had a job managing a veterinary specialist chain and didn't hate it. He knew I couldn't just pick up and go with him. He knew I wouldn't want to. I liked my apartment with the big open rooms. I liked to drink wine by my fireplace. I liked having a place to put my things. He knew I'm a very structure orientated person, even though I relaxed a lot after the fall of the park. But I didn't want to live out of a van or a motel. Even more so out of a van that I knew he would NEVER let me drive. I wasn't destined to be a passenger in someone else's life and he knew it drove me crazy he refused to let me drive it. So, in conclusion to our quietly furious fight, I called him a bum because I was mad at him and then screamed at him to just leave. And he did.

Next I saw him, it was about five months later, and he was on the ladder. Ignoring me. Then he turned and my breath caught seeing him again. I couldn't deny that I had missed him. I drank too much at the bar and laughed at him because I was nervous and because he was acting like that old smartass Owen that drove me nuts. Then I told him what I was planning on doing and where I was planning on going and asked him to come. It came as a surprise to me to find out that he already knew and had already decided on not going. However, I was more genuinely surprised to see him on the plane that morning. I had truly given up on him coming, waiting outside the small plane that would take us back to the island. I would have to go back to the ruins without him. Now I can't help but feel somewhat guilty for asking him to come, because without my encouragement he definitely would have stayed home. Home and away from everything that fell to shit. Things got shockingly worse after we almost didn't even make it off the island alive. These animals cannot be contained. WE learned that 3 years ago, in a hard, resonating fall. But this was about more than a theme park, a theme park that shattered my innocence and ignorance to profit on living creatures when it fell. This was deliberate intentional selling of animals for killing purposes. It was about hatred. Adding greed and money to the mixture as well as unlocked cages of prehistoric dinosaurs reborn into our time and the world fell apart around us again. Somehow, some way, we ended up together, war torn and ravaged again, standing outside a dead man's estate, his young granddaughter with no one left holding on to us so tight there was no way we were going anywhere without her.


	3. Anywhere Without Her

I'm sitting on the edge of the camper's mattress, brushing Maisie's hair as she's bent over, trying to tie her Converse. From outside we can both hear Owen pounding nails into whatever part of the cabin he's working on. Maisie has become his helper, quickly climbing the ladder and spryly crawling over the patchy roof. I've started calling her Cat, because she's quick and quiet. She cuddles up with me in the middle of the night and judging from the way Owen told me she scaled the side of her grandfather's estate, the nickname is well earned. She'd be out there helping him now, but Zia is coming to pick her up to take her to go buy some new clothes, go out to eat and then sleep over. Zia has been one of my best friends for about two years now through work and since all that happened, we've become even closer. She and her girlfriend, Jessie, quickly fell in love with Maisie and volunteered to help us with her whenever. I'd prefer to not let her out of my sight, but I have to put that aside. Maisie wants to go with them and is excited to go. She's been through a lot the past four weeks and I'm trying to encourage anything that brings her excitement.

"Hold still for just a minute," I tell her and she laughs.

"I can't. I'm too excited!"

"Just let me barrette this one part…Ok, here, I'm done. Tie your shoes, sweetie," I say, just to make her laugh.

She perches on the bed and checks herself out in the old Jim Beam mirror that's hanging over the small dresser in the back room of Owen's camper van. He's squeezed in a short, squat dresser with three drawers. We have each taken one over and the contents are mostly the same. A few pairs of shorts, a handful of t-shirts, some underwear, and summer pajamas. Her clothes packed from my apartment are strewn about the room and she quickly admires herself, and then works to pick everything up. She's wearing a jean skirt and a yellow and white striped tank top that makes her skin look tan. She's gotten a lot of sun energetically working with Owen outside, but I'm always sure to cover her in sunblock. Something I notice Owen forgot to do earlier today when I went grocery shopping back at my apartment and brought them lunch. I can clearly see her sunburned face as she ambled down from the main roof to the roof of the front porch when I made the curve around the trees. Then she jumped off when she saw me coming up the drive. My heart leapt in my chest, but I repeated to myself what Owen says, "She's a kid. She's going to do these things." I've talked to my sister more times in the past 4 weeks than I think I ever have. And they've all centered around conversations about Maisie. Apparently Zach was somewhat of a monkey child when he was younger, which I never knew. He climbed everything and once got stuck in a cabinet overtop their fridge more than once. He was almost 4 and he grew out of it. Maisie is 11 and she's the first one up the ladder every morning we're at the cabin.

She raced to the car and waited for me to open the door before leaping on me.

"What did you bring us?" she asked, pulling at my arms, wrapping them around her as I climbed out of the car.

"Food," I answer, laughing because she was busy wrapping herself up in me. She's sweaty and sticky and sunburned. And I bent down to hug her and kiss her forehead.

"You smell good," she said. "You always smell good. Owen says it too."

I smiled at her and looked up at Owen who was perched on his ladder, watching us.

"Busted," Owen called to me. "What did she bring us, Mais?"

"She brought FOOD!" Maisie screamed and Owen pretended to fall from his ladder.

Now, she's folding her clothes and piling them quickly on the mattress to be ready when Zia gets here. She has an overnight bag packed and ready. It's one of Owen's old Navy luggage bags, but she's been using it to travel between my apartment and the cabin site. It's much too big for one overnight but it's covered in hand sewn patches and different colored pen drawings, and even I have to admit, it's cool. It's the first time she's been away from us overnight and Owen has been trying to quiet the storm of my nerves for the past week, since we've arranged the sleepover from Zia's suggestion and Maisie's enthusiasm. I was somewhat surprised at Maisie's eagerness when Zia suggested it. But, with bright eyes and a huge smile, she quickly agreed to it and has spent the last week talking about it.

We hear the car at the same time and she leaps off the bed and crosses the small leftover space to look out the camper's window.

"Girls!" we both hear Owen call. "She's here!"

"YES!" Maisie shouts and grabs the bag. She starts for the door to the van, but stops suddenly.

"Owen already told me. But tell me again. You'll come get me if I need you, right?" She asks, suddenly shy, her big brown eyes softening.

"Of course. What did Owen tell you?" I ask, interested in her answer.

"He said that no matter what time it was, you will come get me. Even if it's 3 in the morning and you have to wake him up. You'll both come and get me."

"Sweetheart, even if I have to drag his sleeping butt from the bed, we will come get you." I reassure her.

She laughs. "You might have to try and wake him up a few times because he snores so loud."

I burst out laughing at that, because it's something we've whispered about late at night when she's curled up to me and he's snoring. "He really does, doesn't he?" I laugh and she sidesteps the bed and rushes me, like she's going to head butt me in the chest. But she doesn't, she just buries herself into my chest and shoulder and leans against me for a moment before she wraps her skinny arms around me.

"I love you," she says. And now I don't want to let her go at all.

"I love you too," I tell her.

"Ladies?!" Owen calls from outside. He sounds close, so he must have gotten down from the ladder to greet Zia. He's gentlemanly enough to get off the ladder to greet a visitor, but he really actually likes Zia, so he probably made the effort to meet her at the car and greet her with a hug.

Maisie lets me go and runs outside. I grab her bag and follow behind her, stepping down slowly from the van ledge. Owen is watching me carefully when I emerge and he smiles at me.

"ZIA!" Maisie screams and runs to her.

"Hi, baby!" Zia screams back and lets Maisie rush her. She grabs her in a big hug and almost topples backwards with Maisie in her arms. They're laughing so hard, they sound like they can't breathe. They haven't seen each other in almost 2 weeks and it's hard to deny their love for each other.

"Where's Jessie?" I ask, laughing at the two of them. But I'm edging closer and closer to Owen, my heart starting to pound faster, my breath getting shallower.

"She had to work late, so just Maisie and I are going to go clothes shopping. Jess will meet us for dinner. Then we'll go to the movies at the drive in. I got so many snacks!" She laughs and Maisie nods her approval.

Owen can sense me coming nearer, so he takes two long steps to be close to me. He puts his arm around my waist as I'm trying to hold back the terror that's creeping in. Owen grips me tighter with his one arm and reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He hands Zia a credit card and she tries not to take it.

"No, seriously. For the clothes," I tell her. I step away from Owen and thrust the credit card into her hand. "And dinner. Let us treat you. For taking her overnight. She's been so excited."

Zia handles the card and says "We'll see!" as she shoves it into her pocket.

"Can we get ice cream?" Maisie asks, so much excitement written on her face, it hurts my heart a bit. I glance at Owen and see that he too, is smiling, but looks wounded deep in his eyes. I feel like we should be totally ok with making her this happy, and I feel guilty that I want so badly to say no. I step back to his welcoming arm. Only this time, I rearrange myself so my arm is around him. I lightly stroke his back so I know he can feel it. So he knows I'm there for him too, not just the other way around.

"I bought 2 kinds. For tonight. For after the double showing at the drive in," Zia says and Maisie squeals. "For a small before bed snack." Zia grins at Maisie.

"I have my bag!" Maisie says, and she unwraps herself from Zia and comes over to us. I hand it to her and as soon as she sees it, it's like a switch turns over in her mind. She glances up at Owen, then me, then back at Owen. Her mouth pinches together and she bites at one lip.

"Remember our deal?" Owen says, quietly, knowing sudden tears are close. She nods, suddenly so silent. I think quickly to try to fill up the empty air but Maisie surprises me. She turns around and looks at Zia.

"So, just in case I can't spend the whole night with you, Owen and Claire will come get me whenever. If I need them to. I just want you to know."

"I know, baby. My phone is your phone. If you need them any time, we call," Zia reassures her.

"Even if it's 3 in the morning," Maisie says, looking at Owen.

"Even if it's 3 in the morning," Owen repeats.

She swallows hard and comes at me, again like a tiny semi. She buries her face into my chest and starts crying. I'm not strong enough for this. I want to tell her simply: No. You're not going, you're staying here with me where I can see you and touch you and breathe you. I quickly think of how I can somehow suggest Zia sleeping here. That will only ease my panic though. That will do nothing good for Maisie. Owen's fingers are by my rib cage and I suddenly feel like we're parents sending her off for the first day of kindergarten. He presses his fingertips gently into my ribs and I feel like he can breathe in my anxiety. The strength from me comes from him. I let her hug me before I step back and crouch down so we're eye level.

"You want to go, sweetheart. And you're going to have so much fun. You've been so excited. Remember the new pajamas?" I say and Maisie wipes at her eyes and nods. They're new pajama bottoms covered in small anchors because Zia loves anchors. Zia doesn't know about the new pajamas bought special for this sleepover.

"Wait till you see these PJ pants, Z," I say, over Maisie's head.

"I can't wait," Zia says, coming closer.

Maisie throws herself at Owen and he wraps his arms around her tightly. He gives her a hard squeeze and pulls her away from him, his hand finding hers. He grips her pinky with his and she looks up at him.

"You know, we pinky promised. There's nothing to be worried about. You need us, we'll be there as soon as we can, no matter what time. But you're going to be ok. You're going to have fun, Mais," he tells her.

She takes a breath and nods, then steps back, breaking their fingers. She turns to Zia and a smile dances over her face and in her watery eyes. Zia reaches her arm out and Maisie goes to her, letting Zia wrap her up.

I feel like I'm holding my breath as Zia walks Maisie to the car. Zia puts the overnight bag into the backseat. Then they get in and I watch Maisie buckle her seatbelt. She waves and we wave back and watch the car as it goes down the driveway. As soon as it's out of sight, I lean into Owen fully and let him wrap both arms around me, in a tight hug.

"You ok?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," I admit, feeling a mixture of emotions. "How are you?"

"I'm okay. She's been so excited. It's good for her. And she's with Zia. Zia won't let anything happen to her AND Mais can call us if she wants."

"Zia won't let anything happen to her," I agree.

"We'll go stay at your place. It's closer to Zia's if she calls," Owen decides.

I nod slightly, trying to stop my eyes from filling with tears, agreeing with Owen on this plan.

"She's going to be fine. Look at me," he says, lifting my face up to his. We meet eyes. "You're alright. She's alright. She's just a phone call away."

I nod again, sniffling slightly, trying to clear my mind. He's right and I just need to reassure and remind myself this.

"Let me clean up here. I'll make you dinner?" he asks, like he's asking me on a date.

I smile. "That'd be nice," I say, taking a deep breath.


	4. Make You Dinner

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO HAS BEEN READING! It means a lot to me, as I'm pretty new to this site. I appreciate feedback, as well! I LOVE reviews and have to give a special shout out to my friend, 18lyztwner, who helped me so much early on when it came to figuring out how to post a story and chapters. I appreciate you always reviewing and reading my work! You've been such a help and I can't thank you enough!

Hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

The fridge in my apartment is fully stocked thanks to my grocery run earlier that day. There is fresh fruit on the table in a bowl, fresh vegetables in the crisper drawer and the cabinets are full. We threw a mish mash of clothes from the camper into a single suitcase so we didn't have much to carry back and forth. Owen sets the bag down in the entryway of my apartment as I try to force the thought out of my head that there should be one more bag for us to take. Someone isn't with us and my heart sinks, missing her. My cell phone rings and I can feel my breath hitch as I try to stay calm and grab for it. I notice Owen stop walking toward the kitchen and freeze in place.

I grab my phone.

Karen.

"It's Karen," I tell Owen. He nods- a single, solid movement. He smiles at me quickly, but I can read his startle in his posture. He doesn't easily startle like that, but the sound of the phone is like the lifeline to Maisie. It could be something.

"Tell her I said 'hi,'" he says. "I'm going to make something for dinner."

I nod, picking up the phone.

"So?" Karen asks after I answer. "Did Zia come and pick up Maisie?"

"She did," I tell her.

"How did it go?"

"It went ok. Some tears. Lots of hugs and a pinky promise from Owen," I say, smiling.

"But she went?"

"Yes, she did. I don't know if she'll be able to stay but she did it."

"And how did you do?" Karen asks gently, knowing my anxiety over the situation.

"I did better than I thought I would," I admitted.

"I told you it would be ok. This will be so good for her. And for you. And Owen. And you two together," she says.

I walk past the kitchen and see Owen chopping zucchini and yellow squash. There's a pot of water on the stove and a pot of something else simmering. I go into the living room and sit down on the couch.

"I don't know about Owen and me, truthfully," I say quietly.

"Still haven't talked?"

"Not really. Not when it comes to, like, us," I say.

"Do you think he wants to talk about things?" Karen asks.

"I don't know. Sometimes, I think yes. Other times, no."

"Why don't you just try to bring it up? What's he doing now?"

"Making dinner," I say.

"Why don't you talk to him now?" she asks.

"I feel too emotional to talk to him about things right now, I think."

"Ok, yeah, I can understand that."

"He's making dinner, but I feel too anxious to eat," I tell her.

"Try to eat," she orders. "Everything is going to be fine with Maisie."

"I know," I say.

"Talk to Owen," she tells me. "Just talk to him."

"I will. At some point."

"Tell him you're sorry for what you said. Tell him the stuff you told me. Just explain things to him."

"Karen-" I start, but she cuts me off.

"For Maisie, Claire. If I had talked to Scott more maybe things would have been…better. For the boys. For me," she says, softly. I sigh. "He's not just staying for Maisie. You know that right? You're basically a family of three now. He clearly still loves you or he wouldn't do what he does for you."

"I just get the feeling he doesn't want to talk to me about things in regards to that fight."

"You sure you're not the one who doesn't want to talk about it?" she says, making it sound like an accusation.

"I don't think-"

"Claire. Just say you're sorry. You deliberately hurt his feelings and you're so stubborn you won't apologize even though you both still clearly want to be together," she says, quickly and sternly.

I sigh again. "You're too bossy," I taunt.

"Yeah, I know," she mocks. "But seriously, I've seen how he is with you. For a long time before you broke up. I saw how he gazed at you with obvious attraction. He always looked like he had stars in his eyes when he looked at you, even late into your relationship. He always looked like he was still in that smitten honeymoon period with you. And I know you love him."

"I do love him," I tell her, sighing.

"Just try and talk to him, ok? Maybe not tonight because of the Maisie emotions. I just thought this would be a good time because she's not there. But sometime."

My breath catches at the mention of Maisie. I had almost forgotten she wasn't here with us; I was so wrapped up in the conversation. I take a deep breath and reassure myself that Owen IS here and everything is ok, even though I would feel much better with him in my range of vision.

As though he can sense my thoughts, he pokes his head around the corner into the living room.

"Hungry?" he asks, holding out a glass of red wine to me.

I nod, suddenly aware of how good something smells and that I feel less anxious just by seeing him.

"I'm going to go eat dinner," I tell Karen. "I'll talk to you later."

"Call me tomorrow and let me know how Maisie does overnight," she says.

"I will," I say, before hanging up and following Owen to the kitchen, where the table is set for us.

"I haven't made dinner for you, just you and me, in forever," he says, sitting down and picking up his fork.

"I've gotten so used to Maisie being with us," I smile at the thought. He smiles and nods too before we both start eating. Our conversation centers on Maisie, neither one of us bringing up the possibility of "us." I don't feel awkward though, I still enjoy being with him, talking with him, having dinner with him. I've wondered if Maisie has been sort of a buffer between the two of us, making him stay but only wanting to remain friends with me. Are we "co-parenting" an 11 year old girl, but still sleeping in the same bed? Does he still sleep with me just because of past terrors or is it because he still wants to be with me? He's still given me goodbye and goodnight pecks on the mouth. But hasn't tried anything else. Because Maisie has been there? The kisses I thought were just his way of making sure I'm still there after everything we had been through. I thought it could just be his way of grounding himself before he leaves or goes to bed.

Right now, he's talking about how truly really good of a helper Maisie is when he's building. He's telling me how smart she is, and I smile, because he doesn't need to tell me her positives. I already love her wholeheartedly.


	5. Been Thinking

After dinner is eaten and the dishwasher is running, I shower and dress in comfy clothes-a pair of black leggings with an oversized cream sweater over a pale pink tank top. I don't want to put my pajamas on yet in case Maisie calls. It's not too late; Maisie, Zia and Jessie are probably watching the second film at the drive in movie. I go in the kitchen for a glass of water and Owen is sitting at the table, playing solitaire on his iPad.

I grab a glass and Owen sets down the iPad and watches me.

"You know what I've been thinking about?" he asks.

"What?" I ask. I open the fridge and grab the Brita pitcher.

"I can't stop thinking about how quick you were with Mills," he says. I can't tell what tone he's taking-it's not quite an accusation, but he doesn't sound happy.

"Quick with Mills?" I spin around, kicking the fridge door gently shut with my foot. "What is that supposed to mean?" I'm genuinely perplexed; Owen knows absolutely nothing happened with Eli Mills and me. He knows how much I despised him, actually.

"Yeah. When I wanted to break his arm. When I was going to break his arm. You sort of stole my thunder there, babe," Owen says, a slight smile on his face. "Smashing his face into the bars like that. I should have seen it coming, but I definitely did not."

I laugh, realizing what he means. But I also remember that anger I felt towards Eli that night. Owen knows a lot about me, about my childhood and past, but he doesn't know the story about the one time when my older sister and I were kids, I popped Karen so hard her sunglasses flew from her face and clattered to the ground, one lens exploding out of its frame. It was at the beach, on a family vacation, on the boardwalk and my whole family was there and saw. Karen grabbed for me, but I remember I dodged her expertly. However, my mom caught me and dug her nails into my arm, which made me shut up. She was embarrassed by me and mad at me for hitting Karen. I could read the embarrassment on her face and the anger in her mouth. It was a thin, white line and I pulled my arm away from her. But she held on tightly, digging her nails in so hard I had bruises, and told everyone it was my red hair that made me 'such a little smartass.'

"So it's the red hair, huh?" Owen asks now, shifting in his seat towards me after I finish the story. I set the glass on the table and come and stand close to him. I lean my side into him so that we're touching. I want him to wrap his arm around me, but he doesn't. I shift my weight and take a deep breath and tuck my bangs behind my ears. He can tell I'm about to say or do something out of character and it kills me that he knows this about me. That he can read me the way he can. That I know he knows.

"It's not the red hair. I'm just really a smartass. And I do things I don't mean and I've said things I don't mean. I just get so wrapped up in shit. When I said that stuff to you-"

Owen stops me by leaning his shoulder into my side. "You don't have to explain anything. I'm just sorry I felt the way I did about that kiss."

"I do have to explain. And you shouldn't be sorry about that. It was wrong of me to use that against you. I was just pissed and drunk. And I'm a smartass."

"You know I had to leave after that, didn't you? After what you admitted. What was I supposed to do?" he asks, genuinely.

"I didn't want you to go if it means anything. I really didn't want you to go," I say.

"Then why did you just leave me like that? You never came to bed; you never even tried to stop me from going. You just said that to me and then…left yourself. It was like you were deliberately trying to get rid of me by admitting that."

"I wasn't. I really wasn't. I'm… stubborn. Too stubborn sometimes. I wanted to win the fight. But I'm not half as stubborn as you are, babe," I say, raising my eyebrows, remembering him storming out with his packed bags. "I should tell you how I really feel. I don't hate that kiss. It was the best moment of my life up until that point, truthfully. It changed my life during a time when things were spinning out of control. But, I think it would have changed my life had things not been spinning out of control. It was really the last thing I expected from you, especially after our first 'date' months before. I thought you were just worried about Zach and Gray. I didn't think you thought anything at all of me until you kissed me. In the beginning of that day it was…," I take a deep breath and sigh. "It was me and it was you. And then after that kiss, it was US. And we both knew it, but I think it just took me longer to fully realize it."

"Why would you say that to me then?" he asks. His eyes look softer, but also guarded, like he wants so badly to believe me.

"Truthfully? Mainly because I wanted to win the fight. And even more truthfully, because… I was somewhat offended you kissed me because you were so surprised I could fire a gun."

"Why would that offend you?"

"Because just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't fire a gun!" I exclaim.

"That's not why I kissed you," he says. "I mean, I was surprised, but that's not why I kissed you. You hated that kiss just because you thought it was a sexist thing?"

"Well, no. It was mostly more so because… I was covered in literal shit, had just almost watched you die, had the imaginary, yet realistic, wrath of my sister on my ass because I couldn't find her children, and, to be completely honest, I didn't know if my breath or my smelly clothes were worse."

He seems to pause and take in what I'm saying. He reaches back finally and wraps his arm around my waist. "I never thought of a single one of those other things."

"You didn't?!" I ask, in disbelief.

"I was covered in shit too!" He exclaims and I laugh. "But truthfully, well, yes I did think of your sister," he admits. "I thought of the kids, of course."

"But me?" I ask. "What did you think about me?"

"About you? You had just saved my life and I had wanted to kiss you since you ordered me to change my shirt," he laughs. "I figured then was as good a time as any."

I smile and take a dep breath. "And if we're being honest, I didn't think you had cared a thing about me before you kissed me. I thought you were just helping me to be nice."

"Well, I am chivalrous," he says, smiling.

"So chivalrous you won't let me drive the camper van," I remind him, raising an eyebrow.

"Smartass," he smirks at me. "No, seriously, you drove that truck that got us off the island. I rode in the back of said truck. Franklin and I held on and I think he may have shit his pants a little, but you managed to get us on that boat. Babe, you can drive the van anytime you want."

My mouth drops open. "I never thought you'd give in to me so easily," I laugh, somewhat stunned.

"What can I say? I'm chivalrous," he repeats.

I laugh and he pulls me closer to him, his warm hands seeping through the light sweater I have on. He pulls me closer to him and we lean into each other.


	6. Chivalrous

Owen looks up at me and smiles this sexy half smirk that makes my breath hitch. My chest tightens out of my control. He stands up from the table and I step back and can suddenly feel the heat deep within myself rise. His arms are around me instantly and I'm biting my lip, trying to draw his attention there. I'm starting to realize how much I want him to kiss me. How much I've wanted him to kiss me. But he holds me to him and I softly lay my hands on his hips. He gently runs his hands up and down my sides, following the curve of my hips and up my arms to my shoulders, like he's warming me up. He gently tucks back some stray hair behind my ear and he runs his thumb over the shell of my ear and down the side of my neck, pausing momentarily at my jawline. His hands follow the path to behind me and he lightly rubs my shoulders and down my back. His hands slow down near the small of my back and I can feel the warmth of them seep into my skin through my top. He pulls me even closer and I feel his fingers lightly toy with the hem of my top. Then, he leans down and finally kisses me, strong and commandeering. When we break apart, I take a deep breath and lean into him, still feeling breathless.

"You're so goddamn beautiful, Claire," he tells me and I flush.

He's kissing me again so fast I can hardly take a breath. His hands go to my hips and rest there as he kisses me, hard. I pull away to catch my breath and he starts kissing down my neck. I feel the goosebumps rise all over my body as his lips gently brush over my neck and down to my chest. I run my fingers through his hair as he reaches down again to the hem of my top.

"Can we take this off?" he asks, breathless. I nod and he slowly starts to lift up my sweater, crouching down and kissing my belly as he pushes it up over my head. I lift my arms up as he pulls up the pale pink tank top and gently tugs it over my head, too. He raises his head to my chest and I step back so he can see me, I know he loves this sheer lacy La Perla bra that I have on.

He leans against the edge of the counter and holds me by my hips as he just looks at me. I smile down at him as I reach back and start to undo my bra. He catches it as it falls and gently sets it beside him, absently. He has a faraway look in his eyes and he starts to stand up and reaches for my breasts at the same time.

"I missed you, baby," he says quietly. My chest tightens inside and my heart starts pounding surprisingly harder. He's idly playing with my nipples, but he's staring into my eyes.

"I missed you, too," I tell him, truthfully. He lets his breath go and leans in. He takes one nipple in his mouth and I catch my breath, fast. It feels so good. I lean back and his arms are around me, holding me in place. He stands up and catches my mouth with his again, hard and fast. It's a long kiss and we're panting by the time we break apart, but after a quick gasp, we're kissing again. I don't want him to stop kissing me. His one hand is holding my breast; the other hand is holding my face against his. My arms are wrapped around his waist and he's pressed so close to me that I can feel him, getting hard against me.

I break away from him and take his hand. I pull him towards me and I lead him down the hallway to my bedroom, to our bed. He shuts the door behind him, even though no one is home but us. We're by the closed door and I'm pulling at his top, trying to tug it over his head. He laughs at my impatience and helps me remove it. He leans down and starts kissing my belly again, down low by the waistband of my leggings. I can feel the heat growing uncontrollable deep inside me and I don't think he can get the bottoms off of me quickly enough. He kisses the front of my underwear, before he's pulling that down gently, too.

I kick them off and his hand quickly goes to me there.

"Ohhh," I let out my breath, hard, and he sucks his in, equally as hard.

"Fuck," he says, thickly, "you're so wet, Claire."

I nod, knowing I was. I'm starting to need him inside of me, and I pull him up towards my face.

"Kiss me," I whimper, and he does, hard. Our teeth crash into each other and his hand is still between my legs, playing with me.

"You have too many clothes on," I tell him and he quickly starts to undo the button on his jeans. I reach out and help him pull them down, along with his underwear. He's standing there in front of me, and I gently take him in my hand, quickly and softly stroking him.

"Fuck," he mumbles, his eyes staring into mine. "Fuck, Claire."

I smile and lean into him, pressing our foreheads together, my hand still gently around him.

I kiss him and break apart. "Will you?"

Quickly I'm kissing him again and then breaking apart. "I want you to," I gasp into his mouth.

He quickly but gently lifts me and carries me to the bed and lays me down. He's overtop of me and he leans down and kisses me hard and long, before moving down and kissing down my body. He makes it to my waist and he takes my knees into his hands and he gently separates them. His eyes flash up at me, full of heat and question. He's asking if it's ok. I nod, unable to say anything, knowing where he's going. He lays his hand on my lower belly and uses his other hand to gently spread me open.

"I'm super wet," I say, a little uncertainly. He starts kissing the inside of my thighs, one hand still rubbing tight circles around my clit.

"Yeah, you are," he whispers. "It's so hot." He bites the inside of my thighs gently and then his face is there and his mouth is on me and I can feel the heat of it against the heat of me and it sends a chill through me.

"That feels so good," I whimper and close my eyes and lean back as his tongue starts.

"Yea?" he asks, stroking me slowly and evenly with his tongue. He spreads my legs open even further and lifts my hips up to him. He continues to lick me with his tongue and I grip onto the sheets, letting the sensations rush through me. I feel him lean back and look up at me, while his hand goes to me and continues to rub. I lean up and look at him and we catch eyes. I bite my lip and he slips one finger inside me and I whimper at the feel of it. He smiles and slips another one in and I lift my hips, wanting to grind against him as he fingers me. He has always been good at pleasing me, always giving me multiple orgasms before he's even come once. But tonight, I don't want it to just be about me. I want to come for the first time when he does. It's been too long and I want him inside me. I lean up, as he's curling his fingers inside of me, causing me to squirm and moan. I grab his lips in a kiss and gently move his fingers out of me.

He kisses me back, but I can tell he's confused.

"I want you to fuck me," I whisper into his mouth. "I want to come with you."

"Yeah?" he asks, smiling. I nod, quickly. I look down at him and take him back in my hand, gently stroking him, and he gasps again.

"Do I need to get anything or are you still…?" he asks and I cut in.

"Still on the pill," I say, trying to gently guide him to enter me.

"Ok," he responds, absently. He's looking down at us as I rub him over my wet slit again and again and he gasps at the heat of me against the head of him. I gently lead him inside of me and he sucks in his breath. It felt so good rubbing him against me, but going in, I have to cry out, it feels beyond incredible.

"Ohhhh fuck," he moans, taking over and opening my legs further. He gently and slowly pushes into me, bottoming out deep inside and our bodies meet. He lets me get adjusted to him and he kisses me, long and soft. His tongue dances over mine and I'm moaning into his mouth.

After a moment, he sets the pace, slowly at first. Pulling out and smoothly going back in. I whimper, eyes closed, just feeling how good he feels, as he moves in and out of me.

"Ohhh," he whimpers again, starting to speed up his pace. I moan loudly, unable to help myself.

It's quick but it's not frenzied. We come together quickly, both needing release from the other one. He nestles into me, still inside me, and I wrap my arms around him, both of us sweaty and breathing hard.

"I love you," I whisper, turning my face so my mouth is right by his ear.

He leans up a bit and smiles at me. "I've always loved you, baby," he says.

I smile as he disengages himself from me, slowly. Almost like he doesn't want this moment to end. And I don't either, I admit to myself truthfully. I really have missed him.


	7. Into Each Other

I'm wrapped up in the sheet, cuddled up against Owen, the TV playing in the background, when my cell phone rings from the bedside table. I sit up abruptly and grab for the phone. It's Zia's number and I try to take a deep breath before I answer. Owen sits up beside me as I answer.

"Hi!" It's Maisie.

"Hi, Cat," I say, smiling at the sound of her cheerful voice. "How are you?"

"I'm good! We just got home from the movies. I had blue cotton candy, a chocolate bar, popcorn and a red slushie!" she reports.

"Oh wow," I say, laughing. "Did Zia have as much sugar as you did?" I ask.

Maisie laughs. "She also had a slushie-only hers was blue. Jessie had a Pepsi flavored one and I tried it and it was gross! Zia didn't have any cotton candy or chocolate though. But she's scooping out ice cream for herself now. I can't eat anything else though, my stomach is so full!"

"You two may never sleep again," I tell her, laughing. I hear her laugh too and it makes me smile. "How were the movies?"

"Good! They were both funny! But Jessie fell asleep during the second one. Zia said she worked early today. Zia and I are going to play Uno now. I'm going to put on my pajamas first," she says.

"Zia's going to love them," I say.

"She will!" Maisie sounds excited, and I can tell she's having fun. "When you pick me up tomorrow, Zia said I can do a fashion show for you and Owen to show you all the new clothes we bought! But I wanted to call now and say goodnight to you and Owen before we start playing cards. In case I fall asleep or get super tired or something."

"I'm glad you called. I'm so glad you're having fun, sweetie." We talk for a minute and before I hand her to Owen she says "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," I tell her.

I pass the phone to Owen and he cheerfully says "Hey, Mais!" but I can't hear her reply. He laughs and listens. They talk for a while and then finish up their conversation with the reminder of the 3 am pinky promise and he responds with an "I love you, too," before hanging up.

We sit quietly for a minute with the cell phone between us in the covers. The sheets are pulled up over our waists, but I don't have anything covering my chest.

"She's ok," I say. I turn to him and smile.

"She sounds better than ok. She sounds good," he says, smiling back.

I lean into him and he wraps his arms around me, kissing my forehead. I make sure my phone is on ring in case she does call at 3 am and set it on the bedside table before I cuddle up against Owen's bare chest. I smile to myself, thinking about how good Maisie seemed. I hope she makes it throughout the full night. And if she doesn't, we'll be there to go and get her.

The End


End file.
